


Break the Heart

by Canadiantardis



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Hinting at Moxiety or Anamoceit, Hurt Morality | Patton Sanders, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, Morality | Patton Sanders Angst, Non-Consensual Kissing, Non-Consensual Touching, One Shot, Panic Attacks, Protective Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Protective Deceit | Janus Sanders, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Sexual Violence, They can be seen as romantic or platonic, Very little comfort but it's there, Violence, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:55:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27741856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Canadiantardis/pseuds/Canadiantardis
Summary: “What do you want?” Patton panted, grunting in pain when Wrath pulled his hair roughly, but he wasn’t going to be quiet if it didn’t matter whether he listened or not. “What do you want!”“All I want,” Wrath growled, smiling darkly at him and leaning closer and closer until all Patton could see were his eyes, “is for you to suffer.”
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders, Morality | Patton Sanders/Wrath Sanders (non-con)
Comments: 26
Kudos: 81





	Break the Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Do you ever wake up one day and want to hurt a character? Particularly a comfort character?  
> Yea, that was all the reason I had to writing this.  
> Somehow still there's a glimmer of hope at the end

Wrath was not known to be a patient man. He was impulsive, he raged first, and he was certainly a side who did not think before he acted.

However, if any of the other sides saw the plan he had been stewing for the past few days, they would have second guessed. He was waiting for the right time, waiting for his prey to lower his guard at just the right time before he could strike.

The right time had finally come. Logic was speaking to both Creativities, aiding them in some collaborative project the twins were working on. Anxiety and Deceit were elsewhere, likely watching some conspiracy videos in one of their rooms or whatever they did together.

Which left Wrath watching from the stairs down into the kitchen at his prey, who was busying himself making a simple sandwich. He was humming some cartoon theme song that Thomas had recently found, and Wrath was able to slip down the rest of the stairs without alerting the other of his presence. He had to strike quickly, and he had to get close enough to do so without the side getting help.

Summoning the cloth he had left in his room, Wrath quietly slipped his way into the kitchen, allowing his prey to notice he was there only to lunge forward and slap the cloth over his mouth and nose, smiling widely as the side gasped, struggled a bit, before his movements became sluggish and Wrath made sure he caught him before he fell to the floor.

“Shh, not a peep out of you,” he whispered as the side just before his eyes fluttered shut, and his head dropped back. “Good.”

Wrath looked around the kitchen. It seemed Morality had just finished making his lunch - not that they really needed to eat, it was only to remind Thomas to eat or whatever nonsense Logic spouted about keeping to schedules - and most of the extras were put away, leaving the actual sandwich. He grabbed it and threw the entire thing away. Leaving it there would have alerted any other side that something had happened, and Wrath didn’t want any of the other sides to ruin his fun. Not anytime soon, anyway.

Holding Morality to him, Wrath sunk down to instantly get to his own room without having to drag the unconscious side and risk one of the others spotting him. The moment the two were in the room, Wrath locked his room from sinking or rising, including locking the physical door, before he reinforced the soundproofing around him. The others already knew he was ‘prone to shouting matches with himself’ and it was Anxiety who gave him the idea to soundproof his room so the others wouldn’t notice anything. It was a smart idea, though Wrath was loath to admit it aloud.

Once the room was settled, he dropped Morality onto his bed and stood over him, watching him with a pleased expression. He finally had his prey, and he was looking forward to having his fun.

* * *

Consciousness came to Patton slowly. His mouth was uncomfortably dry and his head spun. He had to focus on what happened. He had been just making lunch for himself since everyone was busy and someone had to remind Thomas that lunchtime was here, when…

_Wrath._

Patton snapped his eyes open, sitting up on the bed - _when had he gotten to a bed?_ \- and looked around, freezing when the first thing he saw was the side himself, standing by the bed with a smug expression.

“Wrath, f-uh, funny seeing you here,” he plastered a good-natured smile on his face, and gingerly shifted back, stopping when he felt the wall against his back. “Did, uh, did you need something, kiddo?”

The smug expression soured and Patton mentally kicked himself. Wrath, not unlike Virgil, had always disliked the kid-ish nicknames, but unlike Virgil, Wrath was rather physical when he demanded his wishes to be met.

“Uh, sorry!” He hurriedly apologized, trying to sink-out but felt something blocking his attempts, and that knowledge had him tense up. He didn’t know why he was in Wrath’s room, nor why he couldn’t _leave._ “I, uh-”

“Stop. Talking.” Wrath ordered, and Patton snapped his mouth shut so hard his teeth clicked together. Wrath smiled again, though Patton could see it wasn’t genuine, too malicious to be genuine.

“Good,” he commented, reaching forward and grabbed Patton’s upper arm in a rough grip, pulling him closer to the other end of the bed. “You talk too damn much, you know? Talking over everyone, not letting them work with Thomas on problems if you disagree with them. Even _poor Logic_ can’t get a word in if he doesn’t support whatever nonsense you think is _right.”_

Patton gasped as the grip became bruisingly tight and his instinctively tried to jerk away, but Wrath had such a painful grip he couldn’t. He shook his head at his words. He wasn’t like that, he was actively trying to listen to the others now! He knew he could be too overbearing, the wedding versus the callback was something he was never going to let himself repeat, never let himself forget the hurt he caused not only Thomas, but Janus and Roman as well.

He opened his mouth to say as much, but Wrath shook him by the arm so roughly his glasses slipped off, bouncing off the bed and onto the floor of Wrath’s room.

“Don’t. Talk.” He ordered, still shaking Patton until he was good and rattled. “I don’t want to hear you until I tell you to speak.”

Patton wanted to argue, but another squeeze to his arm had him gasping and nodding as quickly as he could.

Finally, Wrath let go of his arm, and Patton immediately rubbed the place, worried it would bruise into a handprint if he wasn’t careful. He kept a squinty eye out at what Wrath did. He still had no idea what the other side wanted from him, why he took him from the kitchen, and why he couldn’t sink-out. Something wasn’t right, but he couldn’t put his finger on a reason that made sense.

“Let’s get something settled here, Morality,” Wrath said, getting up on the bed directly in front of Patton, who barely had enough time to scoot back before the other side was straddling him, still looming over him. “You’ve been needing to be taken down a few pegs since Anxiety decided to be all buddy-buddy with you.” He said their aspects like a curse word, and Patton couldn’t help but flinch.

“What are y-” Patton tried, but Wrath backhanded him across the face and he fell onto his back with a cry of pain, Wrath crowding him and pinning him down.

“I _said_ I don’t want to hear you _until I tell you to, Morality,”_ Wrath pushed Patton down further against the mattress, leaning in too close for comfort. “I may not have Deceit’s silencing ability, but I would stay quiet if you know what’s good for you.”

Patton stared up at Wrath fearfully. The side had a mean streak, sure, but this was _frightening._ Patton had never seen him act like this before.

Then Wrath did something that shocked and confused Patton. He kissed him, hard enough that he was certain he split a lip. Patton tried to squirm away, putting a hand on Wrath’s chest to try to push him away but the other side just yanked his arm back, pinning it to the mattress without pulling away from him. Patton whined, shaking his head and stopped when Wrath’s free hand wrapped around his neck, his thumb pressing concerningly hard against his windpipe.

Only then did Wrath pull away from him, a dark look in his eyes, and a little bit of blood on his chin. “Just try to stop me, Morality,” he goaded, grinning like a shark, before he pushed himself back onto Patton.

He did try to push Wrath off of him, struggling to free his hands but even when he could, he couldn’t find purchase to push the other side off of him, not even roll out from under him. His efforts went double when the free hand returned to his neck, squeezing so tightly Patton saw stars bursting before his eyes and he flailed in panic.

He shut his eyes tightly, silently praying for one of the other sides to save him, for someone to notice he was gone, for it to end, all the while struggling to breathe with a mouth over his and the hand cutting off his windpipe. He heard Wrath chuckle above him and the pressure against his throat lessened a bit. Patton took as deep a breath as he could through his nose, and just like that, the fight left him.

Wrath pulled away again. “Pathetic, Morality,” he chuckled darkly at him. “You’re not even trying.”

“Stop.” Patton pleaded, refusing to open his eyes.

He choked when Wrath pushed down against his neck, his eyes snapping open and a newfound adrenaline-laced-strength had him worming a leg between them and he managed to kick Wrath off, wrapping his own hands around his neck as he coughed raggedly.

Without waiting, Patton scrambled off the bed, staring around the blurry room around him for the door. He ran to where he was certain it would be, jiggling the handle when he found it but it was locked, and he couldn’t see a way to unlock it.

Behind him, Wrath laughed. Patton turned around to see the other side stalking towards him like a hunter would to a dying deer.

“That’s more like it. Fight like you _mean it,_ Morality,” he leered, lunging forward just as Patton ducked to the side, and he felt his hoodie get ripped away, falling like a lump onto the floor.

Not that he had much time to think. Wrath was already lunging at him again, and Patton could only blindly dodge until Wrath feigned a grab, catching him by the hair and the two toppled over as Patton shouted in pain.

Now, Patton wasn’t normally one to fight. Violence was _never_ the answer, no matter what, but at that moment he understood why people would fight, if there was no other choice. However, because he was unused to fighting, he was clumsy, simply going off of instinct and self-preservation. He used his elbows and kicked when he could, but the outcome remained the same: Wrath pinned him on the floor, his arms wrenched above his head and held by one hand in a bruising grip, and the other hand gripped his hair, pinning his head to the floor.

“Well, that was fun, Morality,” Wrath laughed breathlessly, a dark malice in his eyes as he crowded Patton’s space so he could see his face clearly even without glasses. “Didn’t know you had it in you.”

“What do you want?” Patton panted, grunting in pain when Wrath pulled his hair roughly, but he wasn’t going to be quiet if it didn’t matter whether he listened or not.. “What do you want!”

“All I want,” Wrath growled, smiling darkly at him and leaning closer and closer until all Patton could see were his eyes, “is for you to suffer.”

He crashed their lips together again, even as Patton fought against him, muffled protests going unheard.

The kissing went on for what felt like a lifetime, making Patton’s head spin as he struggled to get enough air in his lungs, before finally Wrath pulled away, sitting up and putting his weight onto his stomach and the little air he had managed to gulp in was punched out. He squirmed under the other side, unable to escape and squinted up at him, worried about whatever he wanted to do next. It was unlikely this was all that he wanted to do if he wanted Patton to _‘suffer,’_ not that he had an inkling as to what he wanted to do to him.

“You look nice like this, you know, Morality?” Wrath commented. “Scared, bruised, but still fighting back. I’ve always wanted you to fight for your life, it’s so satisfying to break.”

“What did I do to make you so mad at me?” Patton asked, hissing in pain as his hair was pulled, forcing his head into an awkward angle. “I’m sorry! Whatever I did, I’m sorry!”

“You’ve always been like this, huh, Morality,” Wrath sneered. “Always acting so high and mighty towards everyone, then the moment someone defies you, you pretend to be the victim. You deserve everything I give to you.”

With that, he snapped his fingers and the cool air hit Patton everywhere. It took him a second to understand why when he realized bare skin was touching the floor where his clothes had been just a second ago, and he yelped when he realized he was completely naked, squirming desperately.

Another snap of the fingers, and Patton felt something soft wrap around his wrists uncomfortably tight. Wrath let go of his wrists, sitting up fully on him, and when Patton tried to move his arms, he found them still bound, and a slight jingle of a chain sounded when he pulled at his arms. Looking up, he saw cuffs binding his wrists with a chain leading somewhere he couldn’t see amongst the blurry view.

Looking back at Wrath, he squirmed. “Wrath, don’t,” he pleaded, flinching back when Wrath raised a hand to slap him.

“Make me, Morality. I’d _love_ to see you try,” Wrath said, hands trailing down Patton’s sides, smiling when he shivered unpleasantly at the contact.

Again, Patton wished for another side to find them, to realize something was _very_ wrong, but he was beginning to think they weren’t going to notice anytime soon. When the others got busy with ideas or with helping Thomas with some task, they rarely noticed the world or the mindscape around them for several hours unless Patton himself - or Janus now that the two were on better terms - reminded them to take care of themselves.

The hands trailed lower and Wrath pushed himself until he was sitting on Patton’s thighs, where they could see what the cool air was doing to his bare skin. Patton’s face went warm in embarrassment, trying desperately to curl up and not let the other side see him exposed like this, but every time he got close, Wrath would pinch whatever part of him was available - and every inch of him was _too_ exposed - and push him down flat again.

“Wrath, please don’t,” Patton begged, shaking from either the exertion of trying to cover himself up or from fear. He felt like even this was futile, Wrath wasn’t willing to listen to anything. He had always been like that, since he had been created, where not even Logan could get through to him.

Wrath really wasn’t going to listen, and he seemed to be tired of Patton speaking at all, because the next thing he knew, another snap of the fingers and something wide was forcibly shoved into his mouth, gagging him so his protests were nothing more than muffled sounds.

“You’d think you’d remember my one condition here, Morality,” a hand wrapped around Patton’s neck and he went silent, staring at Wrath without even taking a breath. “I don’t want to hear you speak unless I say you can. Maybe this will help you understand I was serious.”

Wrath pulled his hand away to roam the rest of Patton’s body and he could breathe, although it hitched with every unwanted touch, the way it trailed unpleasantly and he wished he could escape.

He yanked against the chain holding his hands above his head, but nothing gave way. He wasn’t even sure what the chain was connected to. He wished he could snap his fingers and get out of Wrath’s room, but the problem was he was trapped in the other side’s room, and only Wrath could make things with a snap, much like how Patton wouldn’t be able to summon things in anyone else’s room, except maybe the twin’s rooms - Patton had been able to create things in Roman’s room and he was sure Remus’ room would be similar at least - so he was, unless someone actually wanted to talk to Wrath or something, completely helpless. Fighting back only delayed the inevitable.

Patton jolted when a hand pressed against his stomach as Wrath leaned forward until his lips were just beside his ear. He twitched with how the other side’s breath tickled his skin unpleasantly, before his blood turned to ice as he whispered.

“I’m going to break you until you like it, Morality,” Wrath pulled away to smile down at Patton, the expression growing at the horror on Patton’s expression, his efforts to get away redoubled. “Yes, make it a challenge, I like those.”

Hands wandered lower until they reached his hips. They gripped too tightly, and Patton whined, jerking his hips to get the hands away but they simply followed, Wrath chuckling above him and gripping him so tightly he keened in pain, shaking his head violently from side to side as if it would get Wrath away and/or get the gag off.

Then a hand wrapped around his dick and bile rose to his throat. With a wave of disgust and shame, only a few painful, painful strokes got him hard, and Wrath made sure Patton knew what his own traitorous body was doing. Some small part of him that sounded an awful lot like Logan tried to reassure him that he wasn’t actually enjoying it like Wrath was mocking him about, not if Patton’s mind was screaming how he wanted to get as far away as possible.

Patton cried, hating how his body reacted to the unwanted touch, how Wrath gave no shits about what he was doing, how pathetic Patton himself was in the situation. He cried, begging for rescue, for some way to escape, Hell, he would take a summons from Thomas looking like he currently was if that would help getting as far as he could from the other side.

But what then? He couldn’t tell the others what happened, if he was ever going to see them, that was. What could the others do with the knowledge of Wrath r- of Wrath doing this? They could try to keep Patton company, sure, but what about when everyone else was busy? When everyone else was asleep in their own rooms, what then? They couldn’t lock Wrath away, he was as important as any other side. He was needed, regardless of his attitude towards the others, and if he was gone, Thomas would suffer, just like he would suffer if any of the other sides tried ducking out or disappearing.

Patton was wrapped up in his thoughts, he was barely aware of what Wrath was doing to him until he felt warmth pooling in his lower guts, and then he came back to the room with muffled shout, arching his back and curling his toes, shutting his eyes tightly to try to pretend nothing happened, despite Wrath’s laughter and the warm sticky sensation on his stomach.

“That was fun, you almost looked like you were enjoying yourself,” a sticky hand grabbed Patton’s jaw, and he snapped his eyes open to stare at Wrath through watery eyes, breathing made difficult with him only able to use his nose now stuffed-up from crying. He saw Wrath lean in close, all sharp features and Patton whimpered a muffled plea. “Weren’t you enjoying yourself, Morality?”

Rather than answering, Patton whimpered again and turned his head away.

Wrath didn’t like that response, and Patton felt hands grip his hair on either side of his head, pulling his head up before slamming it against the floor, again and again, until stars burst before his eyes, his vision even more unfocused.

“Answer me, bitch,” Wrath growled and Patton shook his head, tugging uselessly to pull his arms free. If he was going to answer, he was going to answer honestly.

“Was that so difficult?” Wrath yanked his head up before releasing him, and finally, for the first time since they had fallen onto the floor, moved off of him.

Patton didn’t care much about what Wrath did once he moved off him, simply curling up into as small a ball as he possibly could make himself, struggling to collect enough air to breathe properly amidst the tears and snot clogging his nostrils, his jaw beginning to ache from whatever was gagging him.

* * *

Patton was certain it had been hours since Wrath had him pinned to the ground, and he was now nowhere in his room, leaving Patton with a much-needed respite. He pulled himself closer to his arms to finally allow them to rest, wiping his face as best he could, before sitting up and looking around for where his glasses could have fallen before everything happened. He found his cat hoodie just within hand’s reach before he caught sight of familiar frames. It took some maneuvering, but after a couple minutes, he managed to reach with his feet, nudging them close enough to grab and shakily slipping them onto his face, wincing when he clearly saw what Wrath had done to him.

His chest and hips were littered in hand-shaped bruises, and a couple large ones on his upper arms and inner thighs.

Rather than focusing on that, he tried his hand at getting the gag off, but found it was wrapped around his head and locked. Likely only a snap would get rid of it. He huffed, though it ended up sounding a lot closer to a whine, awkwardly trying to push the gag off before he gave up.

Now that he could see the room better, he took a look at his hands and the chain, seeing it was connected to the floor by Wrath’s bed. He looked around the room and spotted his clothes in a pile on the complete other side of the room, too far to reach even if he stretched as far as he could go. He hoped, at least with the cat hoodie, it would be enough, although the floor was cold for his ass, but there was no way he’d sit on Wrath’s bed.

A small, almost disinterested part of him wondered where Wrath had gone, if he was still trapped in the room. If Wrath had had his fun, wouldn’t he have let Patton go? _Was_ Wrath even done with his _‘fun’_ to begin with? The question caused Patton to panic, his breathing short and shallow.

He wasn’t sure how long he was panicking before the door opened and Wrath returned. The moment Patton could focus on the other side, his eyes went wide and he almost stopped breathing altogether, staring at him as Wrath caught sight of where he had crawled to. Wrath smiled in such a way that Patton shuddered, averting his eyes to the floor, curling up until his knees were up to his chest.

“They were asking about you, did you know that, Morality?” Wrath questioned, not even waiting a moment to let Patton process what he said. “I told them you were simply feeling unwell and was fast asleep in your room. Even showed them. Even as paranoid as Anxiety can be, he believed it the moment he saw the illusion.”

Patton winced at the comment about Virgil, wanting to defend his friend. He wasn’t paranoid, he was simply worried about situations going metaphorically south. That would be like saying Wrath was always enraged, when he was more… angry at the world and lashed out. Patton wasn’t so sure he still believed that particular thought because nothing that has been happening internally, nor externally around Thomas could have caused Wrath to do… all this to him.

“It should give us enough time to get the results I want,” Wrath continued speaking, and ice flooded Patton’s veins. He flinched as the other side approached him. “I’m going to break you until you enjoy it, Morality.”

* * *

Patton wasn’t sure how long he had been in Wrath’s room. It could have been a day, it could have been several. He wasn’t sure he _wanted_ to know how long he had been trapped. It was best he didn’t know for certain.

Wrath decided he had been ‘broken’ enough, and was letting him out under the condition he would _never_ tell the others what happened, or else he _and_ the others would be hurt worse than before. Knowing him, he wasn’t bluffing either. So Patton agreed, as telling the others wouldn’t even do anything good, anyway.

He found himself in his own room suddenly, the cuffs gone but the feeling like a burn against his wrists. As quickly as he could, Patton snapped his fingers and the bruises and raised skin were ‘gone’ similar to the way foundation makeup would cover them up, or like how Janus could cover his scales when he impersonated the others, and he was wearing a new set of clothing, the feeling of cloth against his skin almost sob-worthy. He felt safe again, as fragile as that safety was.

A knock on his door had him jumping a solid foot in the air, before he relaxed upon hearing who it was.

“Patton? You feeling any better?” Virgil asked through the door.

He took a breath before clearing his throat, knowing before he even answered that his voice would be rough from disuse - the question of how long he had been trapped floated to the forefront of his mind before he pushed it forcibly away - but knowing he had to say something.

“A little bit,” he called, his voice cracking like Thomas was a teenager again, and he winced at it.

“Damn, dude, do you need some water or something?” Virgil asked, concerned although he tried joking to keep it light. “Can I come in?”

“Uh, yeah,” Patton replied, and the door opened.

For a split second, Wrath was the one who entered the room and Patton felt his heart stop before he blinked and it was simply Virgil, purple hoodie and all that comforting emo-ness.

“Hey, Pat. I’ll be honest, man, you don’t look too hot,” he said with that familiar small, playful smirk, though his eyes showed how worried he was. It made sense, if Patton was unwell, it normally meant something was happening to Thomas, but both of them knew Thomas was doing fine.

“I… don’t feel too hot, either,” Patton felt the strong urge to tell Virgil the truth. Lying was always one of his weaker skills, but the threat of Wrath loomed larger than he could bear, so he tried for half-truths.

“What’s up?” Virgil asked, walking into the room with a glass of water he must have summoned from the hallway.

“N-nothing,” Patton forced out, begging with himself that Virgil wouldn’t push it. “Just, y’know, didn’t feel well for a bit.”

Virgil narrowed his eyes at him as he handed the water to Patton, who busied himself with taking large gulps of it to not have to speak.

“I smell a lie,” Patton choked on his water at the second voice, and only when he finished his coughing fit did he see Janus leaning against the doorframe lazily. _“Do_ go on, Patton. It’s not like some of us were concerned for you being ill for half a week.”

The confirmation of how long he had been trapped in Wrath’s room had Patton freeze, the glass slipping from his hands and shattering to the floor, not that he noticed. Virgil was the only one who seemed to have noticed it, as Janus kept a firm gaze on Patton, making it impossible to look away without feeling like he was giving something important up.

A hand touched his arm and Patton jolted away as if burned, the touch bruising.

“Patton?” Virgil asked, looking at him in alarm, his own hand to his chest, and from behind, Janus watched with narrowed eyes.

“I-I,” Patton stuttered, his mouth suddenly bone-dry once again, and he stumbled back.

“Pat, it’s okay. You’re safe, man,” as if through a tunnel, Virgil’s voice echoed through Patton’s head, and he was distantly aware the other side was counting out a breathing exercise, which he followed without thinking.

It took some time before he calmed down, his entire face hot with shame and fear.

“What happened, Patton?” Janus asked, although it wasn’t much of a question and more of a demand. Patton could only shake his head, so Janus pressed on. “You can tell us if something’s wrong, Patton. We’re here to help.”

He shook his head more, the sensation of Wrath’s hands on his hips painful. “I-I can’t. I can’t.”

“You can’t what, Pat?” Virgil urged, inching closer to him until he was just barely not touching Patton, a hand hovering just above his arm.

“I _can’t,”_ Patton stressed, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. “He’ll… I _can’t!”_

“Patton, tell us now or I will have no other option but to call on Logan,” Janus threatened, and the thrill of terror coursed through Patton’s veins.

“Don’t! I’m sorry! I can’t!” It hurt to not tell the whole truth, like something was stabbing at his very core with long, long needles.

Janus narrowed his eyes, and marched right up to Patton. He felt incredibly seen by the other side and wilted under his gaze, shuffling until he was as small as he could be standing up.

“Patton, you are worrying me. This was not a normal illness, was it?” Janus spoke every word carefully. “Does this have anything to do with Wrath disappearing for hours at a time in his room?”

Patton flinched violently, and that was answer enough. Both Virgil and Janus glanced at one another, almost having a silent conversation Patton had no idea they were having, before they turned to Patton with soft expressions.

“What did Wrath do?”

“I-I can’t, I can’t!” Patton shook his head wildly, backing up until he hit the edge of his bed and he fell back with a cry. “He’ll, he’ll know! I can’t, he’ll hu- he’ll hurt me.”

“No he won’t, Pat,” Virgil said with such conviction, Patton almost wanted to believe him. “He won’t ever again. Whatever he did, he'll never do it again.”

Virgil, and Janus after some pointed stares from the side, carefully got on the bed, keeping a bit of distance from Patton to give him space. Patton tried to tell them, either to make them stop trying to get an answer or the truth, he wasn’t sure, before his words turned into a stuttering mess. The other sides simply stayed with him, Virgil managing to non-verbally convince Patton to cuddle up to him, his arms warm and safe and within minutes of clinging to the other side, he was out like a light.

* * *

Janus watched Patton as his breath evened out, frowning at the glamour he could see all over the moral side.

“He’s still hiding important details, but I don’t think we should push him too hard,” he commented softly to Virgil, who held Patton like a lover would. Under normal circumstances, he would tease the other, but Patton was under immense distress due to whatever happened between him and Wrath. “Stay with him, I’ll be back soon.”

“I’ll kill him if he hurt him,” Virgil swore, pulling Patton closer protectively.

“Not yet. We don’t know what happened, but we’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again,” Janus replied, slipping off the bed quietly, and left the room with barely a noise.

He found Wrath in the kitchen, slamming the microwave door with way too much force than necessary, and Janus frowned at the side.

“I’ll say this as simply as you’ll be able to understand,” he said, barely able to contain the smug smirk when Wrath turned around quickly, having not noticed he was there. “If you value your core, you will never be in the same room as Morality ever again.”

Wrath raised an eyebrow. “He already spilled? Knew he didn’t have it in him.”

“He told me nothing,” Janus spoke over him, taking a step towards the other side and standing at his full height. “But if I see you near him again, I promise you, I will silence you for as long as Thomas lives.”

“Oh, I’ve _love_ to see you try, Deceit,” Wrath stepped up to him until they were barely chest-to-chest.

“I’m not the one who makes idle threats here, Wrath,” Janus said, flicking a wrist. He smirked when Wrath’s hand slapped over his own mouth. “I will repeat; if you so much as step foot in the same room as Morality, I will do everything in my power to see to it that you duck out and never hurt anyone else again.”

Wrath glared at him and snatched his arm with his free hand, surprising Janus as he tried to step away. He held his wrist so painfully tight Janus was worried he’d snap it. He looked at Wrath’s face to see the clear threat in his eyes.

“You don’t scare me, Wrath,” Janus said, slipping his wrist out of Wrath’s grip. “Harm _any_ of the other sides, _especially Morality,_ and Remus’ nightmares will be the least of your problems.”

That got the correct reaction out of the other side, who widened his eyes and took a step back.

The microwave beeped, and Janus dropped his hand, allowing Wrath to uncover his mouth. “Have a pleasant day, then, Wrath,” he said, turning away from the other side and leaving him be.

He returned to Patton’s room, where he found Virgil dozing off, his face in the other side’s hair. Janus allowed himself a soft smile, before it slid into a smirk as he pulled out his phone to snap a photo of the lovebirds-to-be. He wouldn’t use it against the two _yet,_ but sometimes a little friendly teasing wouldn’t hurt.

Janus slipped onto the bed, careful to not wake the others up, and decided to play a movie on Patton’s tv while he waited for them to wake up.

**Author's Note:**

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